Pieces of Us
by the-lady-of-mist-haven
Summary: They had been friends for a long time, living together in the same apartment. A perfect arrangement until one night it all went to hell because of a photo album. Who does make them in XXI century anyway?


_**Discalimer:**_ _I do not own OUAT._

 _ **AN:**_ _Thank you captain-k-jones for doing beta duties on this. Also big thank you to all of my momsforhook who took their time to look at this and support me through my writer's block, so many of you had help me. :*_

The glue stuck to his finger as did the picture he was trying to put into the photo album. _Bloody hell._ He tried to wave it off of said finger without making the mess even bigger than it already was. Curse David and his stupid ideas. A line formed between his eyebrows as his attempts to detach the offensive photograph continued to be fruitless. Letting out a groan, he leaned back on the couch and drew a hand through his hair. His thoughts wandered towards the reason he'd found himself in this particular situation in the first place. His best friend and roommate- Emma Swan. Killian rubbed his bloodshot eyes. This was supposed to cheer her up. Just one more picture and the album would be ready. He detached the said picture from his finger and placed it carefully in its place. There, maybe now he could relax.

Killian reached for his beer while waiting for the glue to dry. Slowly sipping the beverage from the bottle, he leaned against the couch backrest and eyed the last page of his work. Scanning the pictures, he frowned.

He did not remember taking some of them, like the one with them looking at each other with softness in their gaze when Emma had come back from that long trip to New York. It must have been one of David's. He took a closer look. He was struck by the expression on her face. It was a smile. A true smile, one he saw so rarely these days. Her golden locks held in place by her favorite gray beanie, leather clad hand rested on his back. But what astonished him the most was the way he looked at her. His eyes had drifted to her lips, his head inclined towards her, he looked emotionally involved. In fact, they looked like a couple. Not only in that picture, but in others too. In the one from the New Year party, when she wore that leopard printed dress as a dare. They leaned into each other too, making a toast. Smiling like idiots at some joke he could barely recall. There was a spark in her eyes, a teasing smile on her lips, her hand held his tie pulling him close. He was smiling back following her lead, a playful smirk lingered on his lips. They were flirting.

His breath quickened. He knew he was attracted to her from the beginning, but when had this happened? When did they start to look at each other like that? Longing in eyes, soft smiles on their lips.

A screech of a key turning in the front door pulled him out of his thoughts. Trying to calm himself down, Killian took another sip of his a beer as he put his lean legs on top of a coffee table and his free hand rested on the backrest. Nonchalant, it was better to look like that. Snuggling himself down in his spot and choosing his _devil may care_ pose, he waited for the door to open.

She walked into the apartment, her strides fast and head low, the squeak of tight jeans and leather jacket following her. She ignored the welcoming grin plastered on his face. Abandoning his rather comfortable position, he turned his body towards her.

"Hey Swan! Don't make a man drink alone." Rising the bottle to her, he grinned again. She threw him a look, her eyes sharp.

"I'm not in a mood for a drink, or a man." She passed him on her way to the kitchen counter, placing her bag on it when she reached it.

He stood up and placed the bottle on the coffee table. In two long strides, he stood next to her looking straight into her eyes. She took a deep breath as something strange flashed across her eyes.

"Look Swan. I know you feel like you got the weight of the world on your shoulders lately, but at some point you have to let yourself to live a little."

"Killian…" She rolled her eyes at him. "We talked about this already."

"No." He pointed his finger at her. "I talked about it. You walked away."

Emma averted her gaze, biting her lip. She turned towards her bedroom's door ready to take a run, when his words stopped her.

"Look love. I don't want to fight." His voice was quiet, a mere whisper. "I know he hurt you, but you can let him rule your life."

"I'm not," she spit out, clenching her fist. "I'm just dealing with stuff right now Killian." She still didn't look him in the eyes, avoiding confrontation as usual.

Running his hand down his face he sighed in a defeat. What was he supposed to do with her? She was so stubborn in refusing any kind of consolation he tried to provide her. Tilting his head a little, he looked at her and considered her stiff posture for a minute. Making a silent decision, he grabbed her by hand and guided to the cabinet.

"Where are we going?" She tugged her hand in a weak protest.

Raising his eyebrow, he shoot her a toothy grin.

"We are going to chase away that heartbreak of yours." He let go of her hand as he opened the cabinet and started to search through it. Finding the item he was looking for, he muttered a quick _aha_ beforepulling out a half empty bottle of rum and two glassed.

Emma rolled her eyes once again.

"Is rum your solution to everything?" She eyed him with her arms crossed against her chest.

Killian shrugged, not a bit disturbed by her attitude.

"It certainly doesn't hurt." He smirked offering her a glass.

She took it without rolling her eyes at him this time.

They were on their second glass of rum when Emma loosened up a bit. Her head rested on his shoulder as she giggled at something he said.

"There is no reason to laugh Swan. I assure you, I was quite dramatic." He waved his hand for emphasis.

She snorted in his shoulder still shaking with laughter and, for the first time in months, Killian felt that he'd accomplished something. Looking at her happy smile and shining eyes made his heart skip a beat. The feeling was familiar, but alien at the same time. He found himself rubbing her back gently. If she noticed it, she did not say a thing. Instead, she pulled away from him and looked into his eyes.

"Thank you Killian." The words spoken in a soft yet confident tone, reminded him of the old days, when their friendship was still young.

Too happy and a bit too tipsy to think rationally, he shoot her one of his flirty looks. Head bent a little, he looked at her from beneath his eyebrows and messy fringe falling on his forehead.

"Well." He scratched a spot behind his ear and he was sure his ears were stained with, what Emma would have called, a lovely shade of pink. "Perhaps gratitude is in order now." He tapped his finger against his bottom lip. The familiar banter between them made his heart burst with warmth.

Emma seemed to enjoy it too as she smiled at him, eyes twinkling.

"Yeah. That's what the _thank you_ was for."

Killian moved closer to her. Close enough to have their nose touching if he tilted his head by two inches.

"Come on Swan. I've been trying to cheer you up for six months now and thank you is all I get?"

He was baiting her, he knew that. But, he was so ridiculously happy she'd opened up a bit after months of building her walls again, he simply did not care.

Emma pulled back a little and gave him a little smirk.

"Please," she sounded confident and unbelieving at the same time. She shot a quick look at his lips, before meeting his gaze again. "You couldn't handle it."

The air between them seemed heavier now, hotter. Killian felt drawn to her even more and he moved unconsciously closer.

"Perhaps you are the one you couldn't handle it."

Before even his accented _t_ sounded out, her hands grabbed his collar pulling his head to hers and their lips clashed. Hungry, burning... She tilted her head slightly almost pushing her tongue into his mouth. His hand found its way to her hair and he pulled her closer against him, a throaty moan living his lips. Fire burned in his veins and he could not get enough of her as she hungrily devoured his mouth. He kissed her back with equal fever, teeth clashing, noses bumping.

Emma pulled away suddenly, resting her forehead against. She was breathing just as hard as he was, totally wrecked. He could feel the electricity sparking between them and for a moment, when she leaned into him a mere inch, he thought she was going to kiss him again.

He couldn't tear his eyes from her lips. He felt as if suddenly someone opened the heavy curtains and let in some light to a long forgotten room. Everything was brighter, had more color. His head was spinning, his heart beat so fast, he could hear it more clearly than ever. He never thought kissing someone could make him feel so complete, so at home. He never thought a woman like her existed. A woman he would want to kiss forever, until his dying breath.

"That was…" His voice came our huskier than usual, heavy with the desire cursing in his blood.

Emma sweet breath tickled his lips as she held for dear life to the collar of his shirt.

"A onetime thing" She managed to breath before pushing herself away from him. She let go of his collar standing up quickly, so quickly she almost fell of the couch.

He looked into her wide eyes and saw nothing but fear. He felt as if someone had squeezed his heart in his chest and tried to pull it out. It pained him that she was afraid of what happened, afraid of him.

"This was a mistake." Her voice trembled as she took several steps backwards, like a deer caught in the headlights. She grabbed her jacket from the couch and literally flew out of the door without looking back before he'd even managed to utter one word. The door shut with a loud thud.

His eyes wandered the living room floor. He touched his bottom lip with his trembling fingers and he let out a shaky breath. Realization hit him so hard that he felt his head spinning. He loved Emma Swan and he was screwed.

* * *

When Mary Margaret Nolan opened her door that evening she found a very wet Emma Swan standing on her doorstep. Strands of her hair were plastered to her pale face. Water drops fell from her heavy white sweater and leather jacket, her eyes were wide and glossy. A shiver ran through her, but Mary Margaret could have sworn that Emma's lips trembled for reason then cold.

"I kissed Killian." Big green eyes begged her for rescue. The little lost girl looked at her through them.

"Oh!" Not a very eloquent reaction, but that statement took Mary Margaret by surprise. How in the heck that happened? She shook her head as if trying to clear her mind and stepped aside.

"Why don't you come in." Showing the hall with her outstretched hand, she let Emma enter the warm apartment. A wet trail followed the blonde.

Closing the door, Mary Margaret shot her friend a worried look as opened the hall closet and pulled out a big fluffy towel. She helped Emma out of her wet jacked and tucked the towel around her shaking shoulders. Rubbing her hands up and down Emma's arms, she lead her to the small kitchen. She seated Emma by the counter and quickly left in search of some dry clothes she could talk her friend into wearing while hers would be in the dryer.

She didn't even need to utter a word when she got back. Emma let her steer her to the bathroom with towel still hanging on her shoulders and a pile of clothing in her hands. Her eyes looked empty as she just submitted to Mary Margaret's motherly touch. That fact alone almost scared Mary Margaret to death. Emma never liked to be mothered. She avoided asking for help even when she needed it. So the fact that she was here now looking completely lost was not a good sign.

When the bathroom doors closed, Mary Margaret let out a heavy sigh. It was going to be a very long night. She supposed that it was a good thing that David was working on a night shift this evening. Emma was not a people person and it would be better if Mary Margaret was the only one who saw how distraught she was. Otherwise they might not see her in a long time. Upon hearing the water running down in a bathroom, Mary Margaret turned her attention to kitchen cabinets in search of two cups she intended to fill with hot coca. It was the best beverage for hard conversations.

Few minutes later, she heard a soft click of an opening door, followed by heavy footsteps hitting the wooden floor. She turned around just in time to see Emma slide into the kitchen stool. She wore one of Mary Margaret's big fluffy pink sweaters and looked completely out of place.

Mary Margaret tilted her head, considering her friend for moment while pouring hot milk into a big green cup.

"Why did you do that?" The question that left her lips was as blunt, but she knew Emma preferred straightforwardness. Besides Mary Margaret really wanted to know why, after years of ignoring the attraction between them, Emma had finally gave in. It was obvious that whatever happened between her and Killian had scared her enormously.

Her friend shrugged her shoulders as she played with the sleeves of her sweater.

"I don't know...I was feeling good." She dropped her gaze on the counter. "I hadn't felt that way in a long time." Her voice was a mere whisper, tired and small. "And I guess I let myself loose it for a moment."

Mary Margaret eyed her from her spot, her head tilted. Emma's head hung down as she let go of the poor sleeves and drummed her fingers against the counter. The frown that appeared on her forehead was one Mary Margaret knew very well. Her friend was overthinking the situation.

"I doesn't matter!" Emma threw her hands in the air. Anger suddenly filled her voice. "I screwed up." She drew her fingers through the strands of hair still plastered to her face and shoved them away. "We had such a great friendship and I screwed up." Her fist hit the counter with a thud that made Mary Margaret cringe. Emma took a deep breath, shaking her head slowly. She turned her head to her friend. Her green eyes glistered with tears all her previous anger gone. "Walsh was right... I destroy everything I touch."

In an instant Mary Margaret's arms surrounded her shoulders, pulling her friend close. The fact that Emma didn't protest was a reason to worry. Her hurt squeezed as little tears parked in her eyes.

"No… you don't." She whispered against Emma's head, while rubbing her back. "You'll see. Everything will turn out just fine."

* * *

Killian woke up to horrible pounding in his head and a cramp in his leg. Slowly, he opened his eyes only to immediately shut them back as the morning light hit them. He covered his eyes with his arm. He rubbed his finger gently over his eyelids, in a fruitless attempt to ease the pain. He groaned when his ministrations did not help. His back hurt like buggering hell from passing out on the couch. Paying that the change of position would help him at least get rid of the headache, he sat up. Of course, that only made the matters worse.

Putting his still pounding head in his hands, Killian slowly opened his eyes and looked around. His surroundings were blurred due to a rather nasty hangover, one he hadn't remembered having for years, but he could make out the lonely bottle of rum laying on a rug. He must have knock it off sometime last night because there was no chance in hell he would let good rum go to waste as a big spot on their rug. Almost absentmindedly, he took the empty bottle and put it next the several other standing on the coffee table. His eyes drifted to the blasted piece of furniture and to the album spread on top of it.

Remembering the events from previous night, Killian cursed under his breath. If it wasn't for that bloody thing, nothing would have happened and he would be making Swan coffee this morning. Why did he even agree with David on this stupid idea? Why did he even look at the photos at all? Why did he notice they way she smiled at him when they were close? The goofy smile he wore on every picture where she leaned into him. Maybe it would be better to forget about it.

He shook his head. No. He had been denying the truth for a long time. Five bloody wasted years. He would not do that anymore. Time to face the facts and deal with them.

He heard the door open, which caused him to stand up. When he saw Emma entering the apartment, he thanked the heavens that he was at least able to maintain his balance. Suddenly, he was aware of the sound of his beating heart. It was louder than the pounding in his head.

She stopped before him, biting her lower lip. Her feet tapped on the floor, a nervous habit she was not aware of. She lowered her eyes, avoiding his gaze. An awkward silence fell between them heating up the tension present in the room since she had entered. The air was so thick, he could probably cut it with the knife.

"Hi." Her voice came out so small, so quiet.

He ran a hand through his hair, trying to tame his locks and let out a shaky breath.

"Hi." His voice came out scratchy and his throat hurt like hell, but a ghost of smile that lingered on her lips for a second was worth it.

Silence fell upon them once again. Only the sound of their breathing could be heard as they stood rooted in their spots. Neither of them were keen on starting the conversation, which they both knew might change everything. In the end, it was Emma who broke the spell.

"Look. I think we both know what happened last night changes things." He opened his mouth to interrupt her, but she just held up her hand to stop him. Determination filled her eyes. "So I decided that it would be the best if I moved out."

His mouth dropped. She could not possibly be serious.

"You want to move out?" He could feel his headache getting worse with every word that came out of his mouth. Her words were harsh, even though he had expected them to be rather unpleasant. This was Emma we were talking about.

Emma shrugged her shoulders, averting her gaze. She chose not to face him, when she decided to open her mouth again.

"It's your apartment." His hand clenched. He wanted to hit something really bad. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and let it out. Calm, he needed to be calm.

"Why do you want to move out Emma?" He could not recognize his own voice. He sounded tired. A hidden plea rung in his words and even he could hear it.

She lifted her head and looked him in the eyes. Her gaze hardened, filled with determination. Her hand clenched into a fist, her stance straightened, like she was preparing for a battle. He could tell she wouldn't be easily persuaded.

"Why are you making such a big deal out of it? You can always find a new roommate." She turned to the hanger next to the door, her voice distant, and took of her favorite bag. Opening the drawers of the little chest, they held some documents in, she started to pull out her things and pack them to the said bag.

He felt sick as the blood drain from his face, his stomach twisted. He couldn't breathe as if someone squeezed the air from his lungs. He felt his legs shaking and he had no idea how was he able to even stand straight. He clenched his jaw and swallowed hard, trying to compose himself.

"Is this all I mean to you now? A roommate?" His voice was calm and collected, despite his heart pounding fast enough to fell out of his chest. "Did five years of friendship suddenly evaporate?"

She shivered upon hearing him. He could be really cold if he wanted too. When she opened another drawer, knew she would not look at him. Looking at him meant she would have to confront him.

"Of course not." She continued to shove papers to the blue monstrosity. "I just think we need some time apart to deal with stuff, to chill off."

Kilian's blood boiled. She was doing it again, she was running away instead of facing her problems.

"You mean you want to pretend like nothing happened!" He spat out the words like a venom.

Turning to him and leaving the papers, she threw her arms out. "We kissed! Not a big deal!" Was she trying to convince him or herself?

"If it's not a big deal," he said through gritted teeth. Taking a few steps towards her, he put his hands on his hips. "Then why are you running away?" He was so close he could smell her perfume, strawberry.

"I'm not." She leaned towards him, mirroring his stance. Their breaths mingled. Electricity filled the space between them. He looked at her soft lips. One inch closer and he could kiss her. God, he wanted nothing more than to kiss her.

She must have thought of it too, because her gaze lingered on his lips for a while. She almost leaned in. But her eyes cleared a bit and she shook her head before taking a step back and breaking the tension between them. "We need some time apart to cool things down."

 _Cool things down._ What a bloody irony.

"It's not like we had great relations lately." Her reasoning make his mouth hung agape. "We haven't had decent conversation for weeks now."

He pointed an accusing finger on her. He felt livid.

"You are the one who had been pushing me away for the last six months or so."

Her hot gaze met his. Her lips formed a thin line. She was putting her walls up. He wanted to hit something.

"I've had a hard time dealing with personal stuff or did you not notice that." Now she was making it all his fault. She had been constantly pushing him away and yet somehow it was his fault.

His face must have betrayed how hurt he felt because her eyes softened for a moment. She reached out her hand towards him. She hesitated for a while before placing it on his chest and looking into his eyes.

"Don't you understand Killian? I'm trying to save what's left of our friendship." Her voice was pleading. Her eye turned glassy as he placed his hand over hers. He pressed her palm over his heart and took a slow step towards her. Her eyes widened and he could see fear hiding in their depths.

"I think you can see a future here." His hand squeezed her little one. "A happy one." She tensed at his words. "And that's scares you." He reached out a hand to touch her face but she pulled back and took few steps away from him. He felt the warmth of her hand leaving his grasp..

"I'm not going to change my mind, Killian." She shook her head. "I'm moving out!" And then, she just turned away from him and walk towards her bedroom. She shut the bedroom door, leaving him alone with his shattered hopes.

Killian groaned, running a hand through his hair. _Bloody hell!_ He slammed his hands against the coffee table. It shaked from the force of his hit so much that the black photo album fell down to the floor. He looked at it, almost burning a hole into the wretched item with his gaze. If it wasn't for those pictures, he would never have resumed his flirting with Emma. He stopped doing that years ago when they decided to be friends. He knew then it was not a good time to explore their attraction. He wanted her to be in his life and he knew she would run if he would act upon it. So he buried it, refused to think about. That bloody photo album helped it to resurface and now he was going to lose her anyway.

He considered the item for a moment, his thoughts dark. Picking a silver marker he started to write furiously on the black cover. After he finished, he eyed his work for a second. Clenching his jaw, he put it to Emma's bag with surprisingly steady hands.

* * *

Emma put the last of her clothes into the wardrobe of Mary Margaret and David's guest room and let out a long sigh. She'd packed in a rush and knew she had left things behind but she could pick them up later. In a more appropriate time, like when Killian wasn't around. Killian. She tugged the hem of her sweater. She didn't want to think about him. Thinking about him meant thinking about why she had kissed him. She put the strand of her hair behind her ear and rubbed her eyes. Her head hurt. Sniffing slightly, she pulled her navy bag on her lap. Maybe sorting her documents will help her.

She started to take out the papers when her hand touch something she did not expect to find there. It felt like a book, a rather big book. Surprised, she pulled it out. A frown formed on her forehead as she looked at the item. She didn't recognize it. The cover was black, cover in a snake like material, rough under her fingertips. It was mostly plain on both sides, except silver italics written diagonally in elegant way. Her heart skipped a bit. She would recognize the writing anywhere.

"I had wondered if he would actually do it." Her head shut up and met David's warm gaze. He stood in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe with hands crossed on his chest. A soft smile lingered on his lips as he considered her.

"Huh?" Her answers was not exactly eloquent, but she was surprised to see him there. Usually nobody (well maybe besides Killian, but she would rather not go there) was able to approach her without her knowledge.

"Killian." David left his spot by the door pointing his finger towards the book in her hands. She looked at it even more confused as her friend sat next to her on the bed. "He ahh...he was worried about you." Her eyes met his again.

"Worried?"

David sighed as a frown appeared between his eyebrows. She could tell, he was trying the right words the express himself clearly.

"Yeah. Ever since the whole deal with Walsh, he felt like you'd started to push him away." She opened her mouth to speak, but he wouldn't let her. "I know you did that with us...but with him...I don't know... it felt like you had a stronger bond and wouldn't need to do that." His voice was quiet, his words spoken slowly, like she was a scared wounded animal. Was she really?

"Look I don't know what happened between you two and I won't push you to tell me. I'm not going to push you to talk to him either. But this..." He touched the black cover on her lap. "Was supposed to cheer you up. To remind you of the good times, happy times."

She nodded her head at him as he put his hand on her arm and smiled. "Give it a shot, Emma."

He stood up leaving the room and her with her thoughts. She eyed the book carefully. She wanted to open it and yet she didn't. David made it sound like something important. Something that meant a lot to Killian and she was not sure she would be able to deal with her feelings. She did not do feelings well.

On the other hand, what did she have to lose? It's not like the situation could get any worse than it was now.

Tentatively, she turned to the cover of the book only to discover it was a photo album. A photo album full of pictures of her and Killian. There were a lot of them. She flipped through pages, amazed. The pictures told a story. The first few showed them as a reluctant acquaintances, standing next to each other in tense poses, not sure what to do with their hands, struggling with the proper distance between them. But, they changed over the course of months to friendly banter of tagging each other, feeding one another in a Thai Restaurant, having fun. She could see it imprinted in pictures, every step they took and yet she was still surprised to see they suddenly became openly tender, caring. His hand on her back in the line for movies. Hers brushing the snow off his sleeve during ski trip. The hugs and smiles that spoke of promises. The way they leaned into each other. Suddenly, she saw what Walsh did all those months ago. The thing that scared her to death. She and Killian looked more like a couple then she ever did with Walsh.

* * *

He was seating at the kitchen counter when he heard the door open. He lifted his head from his beverage of choice that day to look straight into a pair of terrified green eyes. Beautiful green eyes.

"Emma." Her name left his lips like a prayer.

She just stood there in her big white sweater, biting her bottom lip. She looked at him through her eyelashes, her head slightly bent.

"Hi." She put a strand of her hair behind her ear. "I didn't expect to find you here."

That hurt. She wanted to come to the apartment when he was not around. She still didn't want to see him.

"I.. uhmm." She pulled her arms to her chest and in that moment Killian realized she was holding something. A big black something he knew quite well. A photo album.

She must have noticed his gaze because next thing he knew, she took a few steps forward and handed it to him.

"I…" Her voice shivered and she swallowed hard when she looked into his eyes. "I came to give this back to you."

His chest hurt. She didn't want him. He took a risk and she still didn't want him.

Killian felt a lump growing in his throat. His eyes stung. He eyed the album in her hands.

"No." His voice was a mere whisper as he reached out his hand to push the item back. Back into her arms. "I was supposed to be a present." He put his other hand over one of hers. "Keep it."

Her breath quickened at his touch and her eyes filled with unshed tears and even then she looked beautiful. He wanted to reach out and hold her but he let go of her hands and clenched his into fist at his sides instead. The air between them was thick, heavy with unspoken words, untaken decisions.

She hugged the album to her chest like it was something precious. The silver _'Pieces of Us'_ written across it, mocking him. They were shattered and he didn't even knew why. He found himself wanting to know. He needed to know.

"Why?" The word left his lips sounding like a broken plea. "Why did you keep pulling away from me?"

A lone tear slid down her cheek as a sob escaped her lips.

"I am broken Killian." She inhaled sharply. "He was right…"

His blood went cold, a dark suspicion filling his mind.

"Who was right?

"Walsh." Emma laughed bitterly. "He told me that night I refused to marry him...That… I destroy everything I touch." He saw red, anger coursed through his veins. "And he said I would destroy you too…" More tears feel down her cheeks as she looked into his eyes again. "I couldn't lose you too." Her voice was so small. "But I screwed up anyway."

His stomach turned. He could not take her tears. He took two steps forward, taking her head with his hands.

"Oh Emma." He whispered wiping her tears, his voice shaking with emotion. "You won't lose me. I'll be with you as long as you will want me to." Her hand covered his, sending a jolt through his body. "Trust me." It was a promise. A promise of everything, she just needed to believe him.

"I don't do relationships well, Killian."

His soft laughter filled the room as he covered her hand holding the album with his hand once again.

"I think you handled this pretty well."

She looked at their joined hands and he felt it again. The pull that was always between them. The one they both decided to bury. His gaze lingered on her lips, hunger filling his blood. She lift up her head and looked back into his eyes. A spark flew between them and then their lips met. She dropped the album as they cling to each other desperately. Passion filled them, guided their wandering hands. She tilted her head and opened her mouth beneath his and their tongues danced. He had no idea they had moved,, to drunk with desire, until he heard a loud thud and realized he backed her into his bedroom door. Her hands traveled up his chest, fingers playing with the buttons of his shirt, making him shiver when they touched his skin briefly. He pulled away trying to compose himself a little, she followed his lips immediately like she missed them in the exact second he broke the kiss. He looked into her eyes and smiled.

"I love you." Her words made his heart burst with happiness, making him smile even wider.

"And I you."

The last he saw, before crashing his lips against her once more, were her eyes shining with happiness and a big smile. The same one he had seen in the pictures. The same one that helped him realize she was his everything.

 **The End**


End file.
